Crimson Sky
by pinkstargummii
Summary: Smoke, Vodka, and wild rides. Kisses, love, and paradise. Italy, romance, and a bar. Lights, and beauty, from afar.
1. Chapter One

..::.. Crimson Sky ..::..  
  
~) Chapter One (~  
  
Who will paint the midnight stars, who will plant the seeds of hope when I'm gone? There will be no one left; but do I care? I choose not to, I need not to. The situation is now out of my hands, this has nothing to do with me, not now, not ever. I choose to leave that behind, in the heartfelt place that's been my sanctuary. I may be cheating, I may be lying, but I am who I am. It's all about power, who has more, and who doesn't. So what if I betrayed my morals, my friends; they're nothing to me now. Silence elope me as I lay there, quietly in my bedroom, listening to the shallow breaths of the water lapping at the rocks outside. They will all be shocked, bewildered at why I have done such a thing; I don't care anymore. Sometimes you've got to push things away to be on top.  
  
~+~+~+~+~+~+~  
  
To Whom It May Concern:  
  
I've left you for something else, not out of obligation, nor love. I've simply left you. I might have once loved you, and perhaps told you that, but now I don't. So there, I've left you with your thoughts of me, a vast, empty little girl who used to love white magnolias, chocolate chip cookies, and sun-dried tomatoes. You used to say that a bright beam of light always shined when I smiled, and maybe you can find comfort in your memory of my smile, for it will not shine again. So I part you with a good-bye, a farewell; maybe you would learn what I have not.  
  
With all the love that my black, little heart can conjure --Hermione  
  
~+~+~+~+~+~+~  
  
"I found something!" Ginny shouted, racing down the wooden hallway. Nearly tripping down the stairs on her fuzzy purple slippers, she clutched the half torn piece of paper tight to her throat, trying to calm her breathing. Finally, she reached the half lit dining table, where her fiancé and brother were sitting. Harry immediately offered Ginny a chair, and being her fiancé, he tried to tame her wild hair that was hazardous from all the worrying. Ginny tossed the note across the glass table at her brother Ron, whose face was scrunched with fear, despair, and all the other troubles of his desperate heart. And that desperate heart which loved Hermione with all its might, was now pained with worry and hurt. Ron tried to steady his shaking outstretched hand as he reached for the crumpled up paper. He'll admit it, he was scared, scared of what the note might say, scared about all that's happened, and scared for Hermione. And as he read the contents of that foreshadowing note, he couldn't help but gently close his eyes and let the tears come. For the second time in his life, Ron Weasley cried.  
  
~+~+~+~+~+~+~  
  
Fine, I'll say it. I was cruel. There, I admitted I was cruel in seventh year, but only because of the outcomes, the consequences. Up until that year, I was the ever dependable Hermione Granger, nothing happened, if you wanted to find me, I'd be at the library. I was stable, I was predictable, and I was still on the top of my class. They said I was like a brick, square and boring. Harry and Ron were simply not there for me anymore, they were out, usually with several girls at one time. I doubted either of them were virgins anymore at that time. And I knew they both cared for me, but in return I didn't.  
  
I slowly grew out of my rigid form, drinking and partying, sometimes until four in the morning. I slowly tried every kind of muggle drug there was, from coke to ecstasy. Of course I was never dependent on any of them; it'd ruin my Head Girl image. But maybe I already did; sometimes I'd find myself shaking for a cigarette late at night or early in the morning. I was breaking, surely and slowly. And one day I would crack, grow old, and end up betting on dog races. It was a horrible dream, but I was too deep, I was in. All the bar tenders knew me as 'Pixie', and the DJs too, they all knew me, even the dealers. I was in this world in which I couldn't escape, but it wasn't like I wanted to leave. I was content there, I was happy, I had earned myself a place in the clubbing world. No one knew.except him.  
  
I saw him stalking out of the red room down at my usual bar, Crimson Sky, with a couple of the show girls flocking around him. I, myself, casually sat on a bar stool wearing a skimpy leather miniskirt and a black net-like 'shirt' over a lace bra, and lastly, my jet black four inch boots. I felt pretty confident as I lounged over my bloody mary, and sit back to see if he would recognize me. And indeed he did, he plopped down into the stool next to mine, ran a hand through his sun-bleached hair, and huskily greeted me, "Good to see you.Hermione." Did you think I choked on my bloody mary? Of course not, Pixie doesn't choke when she meets hot guys. "Back at you.Draco."  
  
He smiled and I smiled, and that's how it started, but we never planed our next meeting, it was almost coincidental. Every now and then I'd see him at Crimson Sky, and we would have the most amazing time, dancing, drinking, and the occasional sex. He was so goddamn good. I never kissed him at the bar.  
  
I started dressing like that at school, only not so mature and shocking, simply daring. And suddenly, I was a lust object, of course I simply didn't choose any of them, they were only toys. I wanted him, and he knew it. We still met at the bar.  
  
Gradually, he started presenting me at death-eater parties, as a trophy; I got to know his parents. I've never met such cold and aloft people who were bound to each other, yet, somehow, their relationship reflected in Draco and me.  
  
Draco never pushed me to get a dark mark, he knew I didn't want a tangible scar which represented my loyalties; he himself never got one. The Lord knew my intentions and he made me carry a part of him: this black, little heart that would be silent forever. I knew no love, and I never will. I hardly doubt I want it back; I was content with the drenched thing that never made a sound. It never bothered me, nor did it bother Draco when I moved into the Manor weeks after graduation and became a permanent resident. Neither he nor I knew what love was, we didn't need it. It was only good sex. And that's what we'd be doing all day if we didn't have jobs and services to the Lord.  
  
Maybe you're wondering why I ran from my past friends, maybe I was tired with them; maybe I was done playing with my toys. My so-called 'friends' ripped me from my life, my dream; so what if my life style wasn't the way it was before, I wanted him. 


	2. Chapter Two

..::.. Crimson Sky ..::..  
  
) Chapter Two (  
  
I fell hard after Victor Krum, I wasted away to nothing. It was around Christmas time when we broke up, or rather, he dumped me. We were happy for those six months, when I was still the old Hermione, always to be found in the library, always being the top prefect, always getting the top grades. I believe his word for me was 'reliable', and that's all I'm ever going to be, 'reliable' unless I did something about it.  
  
I thinned down a lot though, because I gave up on eating a lot when I was heartbroken. I found that to be my most devastating stage in life, I always skulked, I never smiled, yet, grades were still the same. I had to be different. So that winter break, I turned Goth. I still dressed rather appropriately, but I was simply really depressing when people talked to me.  
  
That wasn't enough, I had to revolt, and to revolt, means to rebel.  
  
~+~+~+~+~+~  
  
Hermione lightly stepped off of the train in a black turtle neck and dark jeans. After a final farewell to her friends, who promised to write while she was on vacation in Venice with her cousin, Hermione set off to wait out front, for Wendy was always late. She was always off somewhere, said she went to pick up her step-dad, said she was helping out a friend, all these meaningless excuses that were not harmful, but suspicious nonetheless.  
  
Actually, none of the family knew what Wendy did for a living; every year, she would come to the Family Christmas party, dressed grandly and dance daintily. No one doubted that she had an unmentionable occupation, but she always had money. But despite the time that Wendy spends in Italy, everyone loved her very much. She was also very pretty, and had many suitors as well.  
  
Knowing very well that Wendy was going to be late, Hermione changed her clothes in the bathroom, she wore black pants and a tank with a light trench coat over it all. After half an hour at the entrance of King's Cross, Wendy rushed in the front entrance, nearly smacking the guard in the face with her tiny Fendi purse. She found Hermione sitting on a bench, laid back, feet perched on her navy blue trunk, and napping.  
  
"Wake up!" Being the loud and perky person that she is, Wendy just couldn't resist shouting into Hermione's ear. But she didn't expect the result that she got. Hermione simply opened her honey eyes and peered at her cousin emptily. "Happy to see me?" Wendy looked ridiculous trying to pick up the trunk in her matching designer tan jacket and pants along with black pointy sandals. {Think Julia Roberts in American Sweethearts when she's by the pool, except in a sandy, brown color.} A nearby guy lent a hand to help her as Wendy laughed lightly while Hermione stood silently by, smirking at the whole thing. Wendy thanked the guy again, and giggled as she got into a rented black Mini.  
  
On the way to the airport, Hermione silently sat there, swirling thoughts taking over her conscious state. And except for that Wendy's chatty voice on the cell phone next to her, Hermione slipped into the sleeping state again, but only to hear Wendy's voice echoing in her ears. "Yes, hello Auntie Rosa! It's so good to be talking to you again. Anyways, I've picked Hermione from King's Cross and we're going to head to the airport right now. Uh-huh, oh yes, I noticed that, of course. Haha, well, say hi to Uncle Frank for me. Bye." Nothing really important.  
  
~+~+~+~+~+~+~  
  
"It's so dark," Hermione blinked at the darkness that Wendy's home projected through the doorway.  
  
"Well, don't you like it that way? It's so cool and refreshing." Wendy's question was rhetorical.  
  
Neither of them talked as they washed up and prepared dinner, which was some kind of baked salmon with a side of garden salad; Hermione didn't notice, but simply passed the food into her mouth just to satisfy Wendy.  
  
After dinner, Wendy tried to interact Hermione into something interesting to talk about, or to do something. But everything that Wendy suggested, Hermione had no opinion, nor reaction.  
  
"Hermione, you've got to stop being a Goth, no guy will be impressed by that," Wendy finally turned the topic to dating and partying.  
  
"I don't feel like it," The response was bland, yet, it was a response.  
  
"Sweetie, you've simply got to think outside the box. Stop being so damn depressing, be daring, be impish, be like a pixie!" Wendy did a dramatic move and caused Hermione to laugh. "Now come on, if you agree, I can dress you up and we can go clubbing!"  
  
And that's exactly what they did. Wendy picked out clothes, herself, a short mini-skirt, big chunky sandals, and a white top; her hair in tight curls. Contrast to what she was wearing before, which was filled with confidence and class, this outfit made her daring and sexy. For Hermione, Wendy picked a shimmering red top with a more reserved skirt which had an uneven cut from the length of a mini skirt to her knees. This outfit change caused Wendy to bring her age level down by five years, and Hermione's up by five years; so basically, they could pass as the same age, twenty-ish.  
  
Together, they went out the door very different people, than when they came in. 


	3. Chapter Three

..::.. Crimson Sky ..::..  
  
..::.. Chapter Three ..::..  
  
I felt neither confident nor attractive as I stepped into the pub that was squashed in the alley down the main street. Whether if it was a pub or not, I could not tell; I've never been to one before. The air was heavily tainted with the smell of mixed scents: cologne, perfume, and alcohol. My face was a blank as I took in this new atmosphere, and surprisingly, I didn't choke on it. Although I was awkward and slightly out of place, it felt as if I belonged there, blended in with the red rooms, brandy, blaring music and all that fun stuff that came with the package.  
  
Wendy immediately handed me her money and the key to her house, in case that she might loose it, which I had a feeling she might have if she carried it with her onto the dance floor and later into one of the red rooms. You never know.  
  
I found myself slinging Wendy's purse over my half bare shoulder which I noticed was extremely well-toned. How'd that happen? I thought back to last summer; damn you Victor Krum. I repeated to myself that I was here to have a good time and that was all.  
  
Plopping down in bar stool would not be graceful since I was in a skirt with an uneven cut, so I decided against that and simply swayed my hips as I've seen Lavender do around Ron, how disgusting.  
  
"Whadda goin' to ha'v?" A small sinewy man asked me in terrible English, or perhaps he was just talking slang, I really couldn't tell. Propping myself sideways on one elbow, as if surveying the room, I sat thinking, or trying to think, of which drinks were light enough me. The guy next to me noticed that I was having difficulty deciding. He was tall and lanky, with a sly grin and a languid roll to his eyes.  
  
"Margaritas are quite good," His peach lips formed words I couldn't hear over the blast of electric guitars and dead beat drums. "You new here ain't ya?" This man, this boy, actually I don't know, he could be anywhere from seventeen to thirty-eight. I watched fascinated as the bartender flipped the bottles up over his head and do all kinds of tricks as he salted the rim of a margarita for me. By now, I figured, I could either be gloom and just drink all night, or lose it tonight. You know what, fuck it, I wasn't normal when I came in, and I'm going to be different when I head out, in the morning that is.  
  
His name was.oh, his name was.who the hell cares, I've had way too many drinks to know the difference. He had a beautiful body, tanned like sandstone, and his leather jacket hid all that you can find underneath it. I didn't mind, but as soon as the music was gone, and there was a bed in the center, I fucking lost it all. I figured I had to leave before he did in the morning, just to show that I wasn't weak or had accidentally gotten raped. But in the end, I didn't sleep a wink, man he was rough.  
  
I flipped sides on the smooth satin sheets and turned to face him. His eyes were barely open and his chest was calmly rising. I smiled nonchalantly at him, I knew he was faking. And he suddenly popped open his eyes and shoved the covers off him as he staggered around the room, trying to pick up his share of the clothes. I dangled off one side as I watched him upside down, picking up my tiny bra, muttering, "God, who knew so much can be under that one little thing," I laughed openly as I watch him shove it in my face as a joke, then I waved to him still hanging off the side as I watched him go.  
  
I silently pulled on my skirt and slipped on my shirt and tried to make everything look as if I had just been to the salon, like that's going to happen, I look like shit. Oh, fuck it, nobody's gonna look.  
  
Ok, so not nobody's gonna look, maybe only Wendy. I handed her the keys and the wad of twenties she had given to me earlier as I saw her lean on the door to her apartment. I think we both looked like shit.  
  
"So what the hell did you do? Where'd you go? I thought you were responsible enough to be on your own in a pub!? Dammit, what am I gonna say to your mother." On and on and on and on, shut up Wendy, it was you who had let me go in there the first place. I said nothing as I shuffled through the tons of clothes in her walk-in closet, trying to pick one that was sexy, but classy, something that says I've just handed my V-card away and now is going shopping.  
  
"Wendy, what do you think of this one?" I held up a simple white tank and threw that on to the bed, then a denim jacket, then faded low riders, plus some chunky boots. "Does this say that im sexy, but classy, something that says I've just handed my V-card away and now is going shopping?" Hell, she might as well know. And I thought the consequences were going to be deadly, but her eyes opened wide and she squealed and dragged me to prance with her around the room.  
  
"It's cute."  
  
  
  
..::..A..N..::.. I'm sorry this is taking so long, but there are finals that are killing me. And plus, this is a slow point in the plot, so I'm not real eager to quickly write it because I know it would sound like crap if I did. Anyways, thanks to all my reviewers, just a little ray of sunshine in my day. And for those of you who want to see more of HIM in the story, just be patient! (Yes, I know this is hard, seeing that the word 'patient' is not in my dictionary either.) But what I'm trying to do is to develop the story to a point where she is so different from her past that she is accepted into another world. And of course, HE will be there; soon, my dears, very soon.  
  
O(^.^)O (that's pucca hair, not meat buns..) ~) Pucca (~ (yes I know that pucca is not my pen name, but ish my nickname, so ha!) 


	4. Chapter Four

..::.. Crimson Sky ..::..  
  
  
  
You think I'm not, but I am  
  
You think I can't, but I can  
  
You think I won't, but I will  
  
You think  
  
I don't care what you think  
  
I am me  
  
  
  
..::.. Chapter Four ..::..  
  
Wendy and I spend the whole day marching up and down the little shops with the tiny windows displaying everything from the cutesy little tea pots to the big brands like St. John. Somehow, Wendy knew every single one of these gals that sat behind the counter all day, filing their nails and talking sweet Italian to their sinewy boyfriends. And as I sat in a swirling chair sipping on something called "Stars of Milan" from a classic croissant café just around the corner, I waited outside those circular white doors that would fling themselves open to reveal a hopefully very magnificent Wendy.  
  
We had been touring these blocks for the third time, and she still hasn't picked an outfit, just one little outfit! Actually, I shouldn't be complaining, I got lots of things myself, seven decent shirts, five pairs of sexy pants, three cut slit skirts, and the list goes on and on and on. Plus I ordered an old fashion hoop skirt like in Gone with the Wind; being a prefect, I knew of the up-coming December events at Hogwarts, which would be some kind of a very formal ball, so to speak. I got to stand on a stage thing and the lady measured my sizes and everything, and I also got to pick the color of satin it would be made from, which was a purple shade of burgundy. It's suppose to come in a week or so, they have to send in the order to have it made because Venice is very famous for their old fashion renaissance parties or whatnot, I wouldn't know the difference, I just want to look nice, along with daring and sexy of course.  
  
I sucked my drink empty and impatiently looked at my split-ends to pass the time. Twenty minutes, no, thirty since she went into that dratchet dressing room with two armfuls of clothes, surely she has found something by now.  
  
I took a sorrowful glance into the round bronze mirror by the window; I looked so different than I remembered last time, has it been that long? I thought back to past summers in which I spent at home, wearing my jammies and watching TV. I was such a kid, I had no outside contact, no neighborhood girlfriends to have sleepovers with, and I was pathetic. But I look at me now, with my shiny hair pulled back into a high ponytail and the ends curling a bit past the middle of my back, I had never cut it. My hollow eyes that said I had died long time ago were rimmed in a thin line of black, and with foundation that hid the darkened shadows underneath my eyes. I look at the low cropped white top I wore, with the slutty little pants and purple thong that showed a little, was this me?  
  
I traced my left cheek to tell myself it was really me, and I nearly flipped out to see someone gazing at me from the window outside. He was haughty and had an evil smile to his lips, somehow, for an Italian, his skin shone like icy snow, pale, yet, sexy. His face structure seemed so familiar, with the high thin cheekbones, strong jaw line, and icy blue-gray eyes that said all in his little black heart. I knew who this was, only one person has eyes with a malevolence glint like him and highlighter bleached hair, Draco Malfoy.  
  
I stood up, and returned his penetrating stare that showed curiosity but no surprise. Silently, I walked over to the glass, swaying my hips like I did last night. I was no longer afraid, no longer scared, there was no hatred in my heart for him; hell, I don't even have a heart, because I threw it out the window last night. I reached up and placed my hand on the cool glass where his hand was. All the while I had a hazy tint to my eyes and a pout to my lips.  
  
He mouthed something, I didn't know what. So instead of figuring out what he was saying, I simply strutted my skimpy little ass down to the entrance and stepped outside, only to find that three girls were flocking around him, squealing random stuff in Italian as they pointed to things in the windows. He was still smiling slyly at me when one of the girls cooed at him and he told them something in Italian that caused those three to jump into a store.  
  
He had a flaring shirt on with leather pants on and he crossed over to me in two steps. His arm entwined around my waist as he leaned down and whispered in my ear, "You look good."  
  
I inhaled his scent, something evil, yet sexy. His hand slid down my butt and then back up and he held me there, in the middle of the street, and for a split second, everything felt right. I was going to step away from him, but if I was going to be a slut, I might as well be one all the way. 


	5. Chapter Five

..::.. Crimson Sky ..::..  
  
..::.. Chapter Five ..::..  
  
I shifted my weight and pushed away from him, playing hard to get, and even if he didn't want me, there's at least fifty-five thousand fishies out there for me to pick and choose. He blinked languidly and smiled devilishly at me and put his arms around me again, like he belonged; God, he looked so sexy. His cool eyes flickering in the sun, he pushed his gaze down at me, and I knew what he wanted. A kiss, which would lead into a date, which would lead into a night at the club, which would lead into hot steamy sex.  
  
Haha, like I was going to give him the satisfaction of that. And even though I wasn't going to make him happy, I plan to tease him. So as he lowered his head slowly, and placed his hand on the back of my head, and traced a slim finger along my jaw line to tilt my chin upwards, I gave no resistance. Instead, I wrapped my arms around his waist and warmed up to his favor. His lips were surprisingly soft and sweet as he brushed mine lightly, then my cell phone rang. And much to his disappointment, I didn't ignore it and let it ring; I detached myself from him and dug a hand into my pocked and pulled it out.  
  
"Hello?" I said as Draco pushed me gently by the elbow to a nearby wall; I leaned against it as Wendy's smooth Italian accent ran into her English.  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
"Just outside, and can I stay outside? I just saw a friend from school; he's going to show me around." His breath was hot against my cheek as he stood over me, shielding me from view. His cheek brushed my cheek as he leaned even closer and latched his lips onto my neck. I didn't wait for Wendy's answer as I hung up and felt Draco's tongue trace a wet line down my collarbone and left it to be attacked by the cool air. He left me lingering in the air for a moment and then went back to his ministration. I moaned lightly at his sucking and biting, damn, he was good.  
  
I quickly shifted his head level with mine and looked him straight in the eye, there was nothing significant, and his eyes had cast a glossy look, hiding his real emotions. Was this what I want? To be renowned as his? I was suddenly remembered of those teenybopper romance novels, hot guy, cute girl, and the rest is up to your fantasies. What the fuck, I'll live the moment.  
  
He then pushed himself at me and kissed my lips sweetly, his saucy taste and cocky style was pronounced in every one of his motions. His tongue lapped against mine, and I swear, if this wasn't heaven, then last night was hell, and to tell you the truth, last night was good. Draco backed up and kissed me lightly on the cheek as he slipped an arm around the waist and directed me down the street.  
  
"Where we goin'?" I blended as much Italian as I possibly can. I suddenly realized I look like a total prostitute, dammit.  
  
"Iono, wherever you want to go," The stream of air from his husky tone blew down next to my ear. I giggled.  
  
"Well, I'd like to change, I look like a slut."  
  
"Hermione Granger, prefect, a slut!?" His sneer was toned down with a languid hand gesture to his heart in mockery.  
  
"Beeyatch." I whispered in his ear as he leaned in for a nuzzle. 


End file.
